CHOOSING a dress is usually as simple as sliding open the wardrobe doors, scanning an eye over my clothes and slipping something off its hanger. It is done in an instant, second nature.
So why is it when the dreaded word “wedding” is placed before “dress”, all my natural instincts go out the window?
I’ve bought three wedding dresses in six weeks – and I’m still not sure which is The One.
Before you have a heart attack, I’m not talking about the cookie-cutter wedding gowns that cost thousands of pounds. They are beautiful but too “bridey” for me.
I love dresses, so much so I’ve made a career out of talking about them. Now there is this crazy pressure to find the perfect one for what is supposed to be the happiest day of my life and a little Scottish cynicism seeps in.
Will choosing the wrong dress really ruin the day? Do I have to be corseted up like some Victorian to make a marriage work?
I think not. After all, my Belfast Boy and I have been together for a decade and come through worse than me choosing the wrong dress for a party.
So maybe I’ll keep the frocks and, come March, just slide open the wardrobe doors and slip something off the hanger. It’s always worked in the past.
Scotland’s most stylish chic lit writer, Ms Shari Low, has done it again by delivering another juicy page turner with her new book, Friday Night with the Girls.
It’s out now, so go get it. Trust me, her characters will leave you wanting a style makeover.